From my pen to Ricky Nielsen's ears

Around the end of March or the first of April, I got a letter from the Nielsen Rating Co., asking me if my household would like to participate in their attempt to glean info on what the unwashed masses watch on television.

Well, they had me there, in the unwashed part, I mean. So I dutifully followed their instructions by going on line, and filling out some forms. I would have sweated out the waiting process, but they said not to, that they would go over my application, and get back to me ASAP. In the meantime, to thank me for my participation, they included two dollars in the letter, which I spent on a losing lottery ticket.

Days, then a couple of weeks went by, and nothing from the Nielsen people. I had finally decided they wanted someone more highbrow than me to do their bidding. I was at the point of saying "Who wants anything to do with the Nielsen's anyway! I never liked them, anyhow. Well, except for Ricky Nielsen. He could sing pretty good!"

When I had all but given up on being a part of the television industry, I got a phone call. It was from the Nielsen's. A lady with a pleasant-sounding voice asked for me by name, and then inquired if I was still interested in the gig. Sure, I says. Sounds like fun. Great, she says. You'll be keeping a diary, and since you indicate that you have 2 tv's, we'll send you one for each.

If I had had my wits about me, I would have asked for some extras. I know that I have a bad habit of making uncorrectable mistakes that make me look, well, special. But I lose what wits I have when I talk to ladies with pleasant-sounding voices, so I didn't.

The lady with the pleasant-sounding voice told me that we were scheduled to keep a diary for the week beginning on May 6, and that I should receive my diaries a couple of days before then.

She also told me that I should take care to read the instructions in the front, and be sure that I followed them. Heck, I've done some desperate things in my life, but reading, and then following instructions? Never. But I didn't think to tell the lady with the pleasant-sounding voice anything. All I could think of was "I'm talking to a lady with a pleasant-sounding voice." Not only that, but she laughed at my witty remarks. I wonder how much she had to train for that?

I got the diaries on Tuesday, two days before any actual posting in them was to take place. The first thing I noticed was it had a page on which I was to list the channels we get from my cable company. It had room for around 40.

Dang, I thought, because we get 72 channels. What to do? Then I decided that since I had two diaries, I would list the first 40 on one, and the remainder on the second diary. I am quick on my feet when I am faced with a quandary. I would need this trait before my week was up.

The log on which you list the shows you watch have a time line that is divided into 15 minute increments. Each day is separated into four parts, the morning, the afternoon, the evening, and late night. To be sure you don't get lost, there are watermarks on each segment that read, going down the page m o r n i n g s, e v e n i n g s, etc.

Each day has two pages allocated to it, in order, of course, the morning, then the afternoon, etc. Funny thing is, I had no trouble with the first day, Thursday. I got everything where it was supposed to be. I do remember wondering, though, what those letters were that were barely visible on each page.

It was on Sunday morning, three days into the thing, when I discovered that I had been posting my viewing habits on the wrong pages. In going from Thursday evening to Friday morning, I passed up Friday morning, and started posting Fri. mornings log on Friday evenings. I did the same thing when transitioning from Sat. evening to Sun. Morning. Dang!

Again, when faced with impending disaster, quick on the feet. I did the only thing I could do. I went back to those empty pages, and relabled them, in the same manner I did with those I had already posted. I took a jovial attitude. What's the harm, it's all there, just not in the correct order. Like a week that goes, Thurs, Sun., Sat. Fri. Mon. Wed., Tues.

I did vow to watch myself, though. But I did the same thing with Mon. morning's log. It went on Mon. Evenings. So I relabled again, and at least got the last two days right.

I did get one more phone call from the lady with the pleasant-sounding voice. She asked me if I had my diaries, and I said yes, that I had them. She then asked me if I had read the instructions, and I said yes. I didn't tell her "not until I had already messed the thing up". No need in unnecessarily alarming her. She'd find out the truth soon enough.

The whole thing eventually did come to an end. Tues. and Wed. passed quietly enough, and finally the day came to mail the diaries back to the Nielsen's. I did get another dollar when I got the diaries. It got me another losing lottery ticket.

I still harbor hopes another bribe might be on the way, you know, a little sumpin'-sumpin' for my trouble, but considering the mess I made of my diary, I have my doubts. The thing of it is, keeping a diary cramps your surfin' style. Kickin' back with the idiot box was a job, now, even if it only paid three dollars. The only thing I could think of, as I mailed my raw data off was, "I hope they have as much fun trying to decipher my chicken scratches as I had making them!"